


Account Balance Zero

by Dee_Laundry



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-11
Updated: 2009-02-10
Packaged: 2017-10-16 03:23:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/167898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dee_Laundry/pseuds/Dee_Laundry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You need to apologize to House."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers through episode 5-13. Thank you so much to Early Readers, including [](http://hannahrorlove.livejournal.com/profile)[**hannahrorlove**](http://hannahrorlove.livejournal.com/) , [](http://topaz-eyes.livejournal.com/profile)[**topaz_eyes**](http://topaz-eyes.livejournal.com/) , and [](http://nightdog-barks.livejournal.com/profile)[**nightdog_barks**](http://nightdog-barks.livejournal.com/) , for excellent suggestions.

Cameron stood before Wilson’s office door and sighed. On the one hand, this was not really her business, a matter between friends; on the other hand, someone had to stand up for House. She remembered how it had felt to wield authority in Cuddy’s stead, put her shoulders back, and knocked firmly on the door.

Wilson was standing behind his desk looking at a patient file when she entered, obviously about to leave. She’d get right to the point, then.

“You need to apologize to House.”

Puzzlement flashed instantly onto his face. “Excuse me?”

Did he think she hadn’t noticed? “You need to apologize to House for yesterday.” When his expression didn’t change, she grew more insulted on House’s behalf. To think of House’s feelings so little that he either didn’t remember what he’d done or thought it above reproach. _Typical._

“Yesterday?” she prompted. “When you insulted his professional skills, in front of an entire Clinic full of patients and colleagues? It was uncalled for, and mean, and from the way House is acting today, he’s still smarting from it. You need to tell him that you were wrong and you’re sorry.”

Wilson smiled. Smiled! What a smug, unfeeling –

“Do you look patients in the eye?”

She was shocked into asking “What?” although she wasn’t going to let him get away with changing the subject.

“Eye contact is important, right? To connect with our patients, and simply to show respect for them as people.” He nodded, and she nodded back.

“Of course.”

Wilson glanced at a stuffed animal on his bookshelf before turning to face Cameron more fully. “I have a young patient I’ve been treating for almost two years. I’ve looked him in the eye a total of three times.”

Confused as to Wilson’s thought process – personal failing in patient care excused a personal failing in friendship? – Cameron frowned and crossed her arms. He had about a minute to explain himself before she’d rein him in.

“The first time,” Wilson continued, “he flinched and looked away, and I figured he was shy and would need to warm up to me. The second time, he threw his arm over his face and shouted, and his mother had to explain that I was being horribly rude to him.”

He gazed at Cameron pointedly, and she stared back.

“He has Asperger’s syndrome and anxiety, and is highly aversive to eye contact. He’s a bright kid, engaging, and gets insulted if you don’t greet him when you enter the room – as anyone would – but finds direct eye contact physically and emotionally distressing.” Pausing, Wilson looked down toward his desk and shuffled one of the files there. “The third time I tried to look him in the eye was a thoughtless mistake, and I apologized profusely to him for that.”

“What does your patient have to do with House?”

“What works to show concern for ninety-nine people doesn’t always work for the hundredth.” Wilson extracted a piece of paper from under the file he’d been handling and handed it to Cameron. “Here.”

She turned it over and read through it quickly. “This is... a bill?”

“Yes.” Wilson was smiling again, waiting for her to catch up.

The format was simple, as if it had been printed from a spreadsheet template or personal bookkeeping software: Wilson’s full name and address, an invoice number, account balance (zero), and then a line item with the previous day’s date, “Hosp ~~Hell~~ Clinic,” and a charge of one hundred dollars. The line item below subtracted out seventy-five dollars, leaving the balance at the bottom of twenty-five. That was followed by the due date (a week away), submit-to address of “my palm, you cheap bastard,” and House’s signature at the bottom.

“Why did he take out seventy-five?” Cameron asked.

Wilson gestured with a finger toward the reverse side of the page. “Turn it over.”

She read out loud, “For actually being funny for once.”

Wilson retrieved the paper from her hands and tucked it back under the file on his desk. “I had brought in a hundred this morning, but I haven’t had time yet to go get change.”

Confused, Cameron shook her head. This was very House-like, but on the other hand... “You mean you’re not going to _say_ you’re sorry? You’ll just hand over cash? How can –”

With a brief tight sigh, Wilson interrupted her. “House has never been much for talking through things. We hit on this idea a couple of years ago, and it’s good. I get to make amends and know I’m forgiven, and House doesn’t have to listen to my feelings.”

Cameron tried to imagine sending a bill when she felt an apology was due her, and failed. It was so impersonal, so commercial... So analytical and objective. So House. “This really works for _everything_?”

As he reached for his lab coat, Wilson’s smile twitched. “The smallest bill I got was for a dollar; the largest was eighteen thousand.” He turned toward her while pulling his arm into his sleeve. “Some of that was credited back, too.”

Cameron shook her head. What a weird friendship. Even after having seen it in action for years, she still wondered how they managed to make it function.

Walking out, Wilson stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Would you do me a favor and not let on to House that you know about this? If he knows someone else knows, then he might change his mind about it, and...” He dropped his hand and his gaze, before looking at her again. “I really like being able to apologize to my best friend.”

Weird. But it did seem to work. She patted Wilson's arm once and smiled. “My lips are sealed.”

~End~


	2. Chapter 2

**Opening the Account - a prequel**   
_House and Wilson negotiate the deal. Dialogue only._

Just shut up. I don’t care.

I’m trying to tell you that I’m sorry!

I’m trying to watch TV! Shut up!

You’re just going to hold a grudge, aren’t you? Twenty years from now you’re going to put on a trucker hat and disrupt a presentation of mine, even though I’m apologizing now, being man enough to admit my mistakes, and come to –

Blah blah blah, how many fucking words are going to come out of your mouth? I don’t want to hear it! Go sell your stupid shit to someone who cares.

Sell my stupid shit. Real fucking nice, House. All I’m trying to do is make it up to you, and you have to –

Want to make it up to me? Really make it up to me, in a way that’s meaningful?

Yes! ... Wait. Are you going to hit me? Because Julie will notice if I’m bruised.

Twenty bucks.

What?

Twenty bucks, and the whole thing’s over, and then I can watch my goddamn show.

Really? Twenty dollars and that’s it?

Twenty dollars _and_ you shut up and don’t talk about it any more.

You’ll really forgive me? Won’t hold it me against me later?

Do I look like any of your wives? Give me the money.

Here.

Done.

OK.

OK.

This show sucks, by the way. There’s a Creature Feature marathon on channel 111.

Why didn’t you tell me that earlier?


End file.
